The door opened, and Ingram walked in, unarmed. "Lord Dragic. I have some important matters to discuss with you." Ingram pulled up a stool and sat down in front of Dragic's prison cell. Before we talk I have some papers for you to sign. Ingram pulled out some doc.u.ments and a pen a suitcase with a marble design, resting it on his knees. " What are those papers?" asked Dragic. Ingram snickered. These are the papers that signify you own the Isle Of Zero Degrees Celsius." If you cross put your name and sign the ownership over to me, I will gladly let you got unharmed. I will walk you out of here myself. Ingram stuck the papers and pen into the prison cell, handing them to Dragic. Dragic stared at the papers for a minute before tearing the stack of papers to shreds. " I refuse." " I rather die. I own this aisle." I don't care if you blow my brains out the back of my head." Ingram placed a serious expression on his face. " Lucky for you those were cops. I copied the real doc.u.ments because I knew something like this would happen. Don't worry. You will crack. Ingram turned his back on Dragic and left the dungeon, locking it behind him.